The Hunt
by ILoveFishyCrackers
Summary: After her parents are killed by werewolves – leaving her and her younger brother orphaned – Jada Buonavento joins the Circle and spends her days tutoring in the countryside to pay her bills. But when she is given the chance to work for Valentine, the Circle's leader, will her fortunes change? Valentine/OC Prequel to The Morgenstern Girl and Eden
1. Chapter 1: The Prey

**Hello, everyone!**

**This is a very exciting piece to write for those of you who follow any of my other stories... And even if you don't, the story-line is independent, so there shouldn't be any problems... :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Mortal Instruments. Sorry.**

**P.S. Enjoy!**

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Whoso list to hunt, I know where is an hind,  
But as for me, helas! I may no more.  
The vain travail hath worried me so sore,  
I am of them that furthest come behind.  
Yet may I by no means, my worried mind  
Draw from the deer; but as she fleeth afore  
Fainting I follow. I leave off therefore,  
Since in a net I seek to hold the wind.  
Who list her hunt, I put him out of doubt,  
As well as I, may spend his time in vain;  
And graven in diamonds in letters plain  
There is written, her fair neck round about,  
"_Noli me tangere_, for Caesar's I am,  
And wild to hold, though I seem tame."

Sir Thomas Wyatt

* * *

"Oh, _please_, Miss Buonavento: do not say such things. Surely you cannot mean your refusal… My affections for you –"

"– Are _unreciprocated_, sir," she finished shortly. Nineteen-year-old Jada Buonavento crossed her slender, bronzed arms across her chest – and sighed in annoyance. She felt as if she was an actress on stage, and that giving rejections to eager suitors was a role she had rehearsed many, MANY, times over. "I apologize, Mr. Ashguard, if I gave you some reason to believe that I felt _any_ romantic inclinations towards you, but I can assure you now that my feelings for you are strictly professional."

"No… No, that isn't possible," he insisted, shaking his head. Thaddeus Ashguard might have been a handsome man in youth, but his beauty had dulled as the years had taken him over. His black hair was now peppered with grey, his ocean-blue eyes had lost their former luster, and his tall, muscular figure had lost its appeal. He was still considered good-looking by some – Jada knew that some of his female servants still fancied him – but she herself could not see past his weak desperation: or his apparent lack of self-control in the presence of a beautiful young woman. "You certainly must feel something more than _that_ for me, my sweet Jada… Can't you see you are breaking my heart with your foolish games? …Stop your denying how you feel and –"

"I am not '_your_ _Jada'_, sir," she snapped icily. "And if you are concerned about the matters of your heart, perhaps you ought to speak with your _wife_ about them, instead of with me."

"Oh, Miss Buonavento." Thaddeus took a step towards her, chuckling, with his arms open. "If only you weren't so perfectly lovely – maybe _then_ I would have been able to resist your charms… But we will make each other happy, you and I… You'll see… I will go to the ends of the earth to be with you, even if I must leave my family…"

She arched an eyebrow menacingly at him as he neared. "You are almost twice my age, Mr. Ashguard… If this is some sort of morbid joke, I'd like to ask you to stop."

"Think of us together, Jada." His narrow eyes were blazing hopefully, and it was all she could do to not rake her nails across his abominable cheek in rage. "Think of me holding you, kissing you… Kissing you, my love, would be like walking on the clouds…"

"And it's an equally unattainable possibility, I'm afraid." Her tone was as cold as the crack of a whip. Even then, after five years of living away from Italy, she could still hear the accent of her native language on her tongue. "Come near me one more inch, Ashguard," she warned, her gaze flicking coolly over his approaching body, "and I promise I will make you live to regret it."

_That_ made him stop.

"Jada… Whatever do you mean?"

"I think you know exactly what I mean."

Jada turned away from him then, leaning against the thick balustrade. The Ashguard Manor house was not too impressive in size – when compared to the residences of more venerable Shadowhunter families – but Jada had always thought it charming in its own way, set into the scenic Idrisian countryside like a pearl in the sand. Where she was standing now had been her favorite vantage point of all: the spacious, elegant terrace that branched off of the formal dining-room, overlooking the west side of the Manor – and giving breath-taking views of the summer sunsets. Part of her had longed for a place like it in a home all her own. But all Jada could think about it now was that she would rather be any other place in the world _instead_ of there.

"Jada." The voice of her employer came again, a sound like a screeching chalk-board in her ears. Hearing her name in his mouth was like poison. "Tell me what you are thinking."

Quick as lightening, she spun around and faced him with her steely, unwavering fury. "I think you are a rat – which is an insult to rats," she growled at him. Anger flared in her brown eyes as she flicked her tumbling, raven-black hair over her shoulder. "And I think you are a lovesick fool… You have a dutiful wife who bore you three wonderful children, you have a magnificent home, and you have a comfortable fortune to live on – Are you really deciding to turn your back on all those things – because of mere animal lust? Are you really so ungrateful for what you have?"

His jaw sagged in shock. Whatever he had expected her to say – that apparently, had not been it. "What I feel for you, Jada – It is not animal lust –"

"What other name will you give to it?" came her retort. "You do not know me, sir. You have no interest in my personality or even in my feelings for _you_. Your only attraction to me comes only from my beauty. Any other aspects of my self and my personality are pushed aside."

"That – that isn't true –"

"And even if you could, perhaps, convince me that you cared for me," she continued relentlessly, "the way you have disrespected and betrayed your wife would still make me revile the very sight of you." Jada paused, her chest hitching as she furiously breathed. More than anything, she wished that she had never inherited her mother's striking features. Not only because it made her beautiful – which created many problems for her – but because it was also a dark reminder of her parents' death, every time that she glanced into a mirror. It seemed wrong that the very thing this man liked her most for was the thing that caused Jada the most emotional pain. "I would be offering you a kind understatement, Mr. Ashguard, to say that I was totally indifferent to you and to your feelings for me. But to be honest, the thought of even being near you disgusts me."

"You –" Thaddeus's jaw hinged open and closed – as if he was a lifeless wooden puppet instead of a man. "You really are… indifferent to me, Jada?"

Her glare for him was a sharpened dagger. She bored into his face with her eyes, and he looked guiltily away as he realized what he had done. "Yes, Mr. Ashguard… I am _indifferent_ to you," she spat.

Suddenly, a sound of an open door came behind them. But only Jada, however, turned her face to the source of the noise; she was just in time to see Mrs. Ashguard stop and lean tiredly on the frame of the French doors, looking drained. The ten-year-old twins, Michael and Andrew, were kicking at her heels, squabbling with each other – and she was holding the new baby, Marie, on her hip. "Hello Jada," she greeted, offering her a warm smile. As little as Jada cared for Thaddeus Ashguard, his wife was a kind, gentle, and hardworking woman that Jada had personally come to respect and admire. It was the pretty Mrs. Ashguard who had first hired Jada to tutor her young boys – and it seemed a cruel deal of fate, to Jada, that this woman's sons were regrettably just like their good-for-nothing father. "And hello, darling," she offered her husband. Exhaustion spilled off of her in waves.

Thaddeus did not look at her.

"We just finished our morning errands," she continued, her expression growing increasingly wary. Her light brown eyes flicked between Jada and her husband – alone, unsupervised, on the balcony together – and her hand trembled ever so slightly as she tucked back a strand of her frazzled chestnut hair. Jada was filled with pity to see that there was no surprise in her mistress's eyes – only an agonized pang of realization, as if to say, '_not_ _this_ _again'_… It made Jada want to tear a limb off her husband. "The… the boys' lessons will have to wait until after noon, Jada… I doubt they will settle down before then."

She set her jaw resolutely. No matter how much pity she may have felt for this woman, it would not stop her from saying what she needed to say.

"Forgive me, Mrs. Ashguard," Jada began, looking at her mistress directly, "but I'm afraid I have to offer you my immediate resignation." Pointedly, she glared at the cringing Mr. Ashguard. His face was still turned away from both her and his wife, like a coward facing the gallows. Disgusted, she shook her head at him. "The thought of even staying in this place past noon is sickening."

The twins' eyes brightened, immediately.

"No more lessons!" they cried exuberantly. Before their mother could tell them to stop, they joined hands and broke into a happy little dance. "No more lessons, no more lessons!" they chanted again and again.

Mrs. Ashguard's eyes had brightened, as well, Jada saw. But it was with the exact opposite of joy.

Jada walked past her mistress before she could see the first tear fall, pausing only to apologetically touch her shoulder – and then she silently disappeared in the Manor house to collect her belongings.

* * *

**Review and tell me if you enjoy this... I know this chapter is short, but I want to know if I should continue with it...**

**And I'm not ashamed to say I am a huge Jada fan, even though she is my own character... I hope you enjoy her as much as I do. :)**

**See you next chapter,**

**Love, Fishie.**


	2. Chapter 2: Vain Travail

**Hello, everyone! So sorry for not updating for awhile, but I am back now!**

**I hope you like this chapter... You don't get to see any Valentine for a few more chapters. (I know *sigh* boring, aren't I?), but I think you will like the build up of plot... It makes it so much more interesting, you see...**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Mortal Instruments!**

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Somewhere in the distance, Giuseppe's front door opened and closed with a resounding latch, and the man set his newspaper down on the table beside him, sighing. He recognized the familiar, light footsteps approaching and immediately knew it meant two things – one, that Jada had lost another job – and two, that when his wife Rosalina _found_ _out_ that Jada lost another job, a giant argument would ensue. If he thought about it closely, he supposed that the possibility filled him with a dull sort of dread – Rosalina was a force to be reckoned with when she was angry – but regardless of the circumstance or its potential consequences, Giuseppe was glad to see Jada back home. Her presence was always sorely missed when she was gone.

"Jada?" he called, knowing it was her. "Jada, is that you?"

There was no reply.

Narrowing his brown eyes, Giuseppe rose from his armchair – and winced. In his golden days of Shadowhunting, he had been quite the warrior – but an irreparable injury to his left leg had forced him to retire at the tender age of thirty-five. The worst of the scar had faded, but the pain had never entirely left him. He reached for his silver-handled walking stick, (he would never admit it was a cane), and turned to the entryway.

The first thing he saw was Jada, her thick, ink-black hair knotted into a single braid that spilled over her shoulder to her waist. Her lovely brown eyes were downcast, her expression unreadable as she dropped her plain canvas luggage bags at her feet – and Giuseppe sighed again. Jada was upset, he knew, but he supposed it was not entirely her fault. If this loss of work was anything like the others, it had little to do with her and very much to do with her male employers. Jada had inherited the best features of both her parents, after all, and the combination of the two had resulted in a strikingly, amazingly, beautiful daughter – which would have been a good thing, if her parents had been alive to protect her from the swarms of lustful men that preyed upon her.

But Giuseppe knew better than anyone that Riccardo and Maria Buonavento were dead.

It had been an attack on a werewolf's nest gone wrong, he knew – and in a single, brutally cruel night, Jada had lost both her parents. It was more than most seventeen-year-old girls could handle. But Jada was stubborn and strong, like her father. She had navigated through her parents' death while simultaneously taking care of her younger brother and forging a career for herself in tutoring. She had done well, considering the circumstances.

Giuseppe had been living in his native Italy at the time, and when he and his wife finally discovered the truth about Riccardo and Maria's death, they had immediately sold their home in Italy and moved to Idris to take care of Jada and Theo. It had been a sad sacrifice to make. After all, the irony of the situation was not entirely lost on him.

The Buonavento parents' had always been supporters of Downworlder/ Nephilim relations – while Giuseppe himself had always opposed them. He had been a Circle member from the start, although he had never made the affiliation public. And now both of his friends, both Riccardo and Maria, were dead – killed by the Downworlders they had always hoped would _cooperate_ with Shadowhunters.

And _he_ was the one alive to raise the children they had left behind.

After that, it had not taken much to make Jada join the Circle's ranks herself. She was adamant, even more adamant than _he_ was, about the extermination of Downworlders. Giuseppe told himself that her radicalism would fade with time – as her emotion scars healed. But, so far, it hadn't.

And now Jada stood in front of him, as if her heart was breaking, and Giuseppe knew he had to protect her. Protect her when no one else could.

She shoved off her knee-length trench-coat irritably and hooked it on the coat-rack at her side. He saw the beautiful curve of her lips tremble, ever-so-slightly.

"I am so sorry, Jada," he told her, softly. "I thought Thaddeus Ashguard was a good man. I would never have sent you there if I thought for one _moment_ that he might –"

"It was not your fault, Uncle," she replied curtly, staring at the floor.

"_Jada_," he breathed again. Giuseppe walked over to her then – limped to her, really – and cupped her lovely face in his bronzed hands. He saw her father in the prideful set of her jaw, in her high cheekbones. He saw her mother in her lovely eyes and long eyelashes, in her beautiful, full lips. "_Bella_ _uccello_, it is not your fault either…"

"I can still pay you rent for this month –"

Scoffing, Giuseppe shook his head at her. "How many times do I tell you, you do not have to pay a single penny for living here? You are like a daughter to me, Jada…"

She did not reply, but it was only her hubris acting up, he knew. As long as she did not agree with him, she knew she would be allowed to live, and _pay_ for her living, as she chose to.

"_Mrs_. Ashguard was kind to me, at least," she remarked, changing the subject. He tried to not notice the keen anger gleaming in the girl's eyes as she turned her face away from him. "She leant me the use of their carriage for the journey. She had anticipated what happened with Thaddeus, I think."

Although Giuseppe had an idea of what 'what happened' was, he had to ask. "And what exactly did he _do _to you, Jada?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but in that instant the door behind her swung open and two figures stood on the threshold, framed by afternoon sunlight.

"Jada? Jada!" the smallest figure cried. He dropped whatever it was that he was holding, (which turned out to be a large paper bag full of groceries), and latched his little arms firmly around Jada's hips. Giuseppe watched all the strain flood from Jada's expression, melting into serenity. "Jada, you came home! I thought you weren't coming back for another two weeks!"

With a smile, Jada reached down and scooped her younger brother up in her arms – a difficult feat, considering he was twelve. But he was not heavy; he was nothing more than a mere boy, with a mess of tumbled, black hair and an angel's wide, innocent eyes.

"I came back to see _you_, of course, _tesoro_…" Jada surveyed him with a clinical fondness, memorizing his face. "Goodness, look how tall you are getting, Theo. Soon you are going to be even taller than Aunt Rosalina or Uncle Giuseppe…"

"Not quite." The voice that came from the doorway was quiet – displeased, but not cold. Rosalina must have been having a good day, Giuseppe noted, to be so welcoming of Jada's surprise visit. "Hello, Jada," she greeted somewhat stiffly, shifting the bags in her arms. "I'll admit I'm not entirely surprised to see _you_ back so early…"

Giuseppe watched his wife walk into the entryway with a tender smile. She was small, delicately slender, and almost bird-like with her curious honey-brown eyes. But he knew that in spite of her unimposing appearance, she harbored a vicious, quick-burning temper. With a flick of her dark brown hair, Rosalina dropped the groceries to the ground beside Jada's bags, tiredly.

Theo watched the tenseness between the both of them closely, his eyes inexplicably solemn. "Jada? …Are you back because – Did – did you loose another job?" he asked, his voice darkening.

Jada looked momentarily startled, then laughed, masking her unhappiness. "Ah, I can't hide anything from you anymore, can I Theo?" Jada buried her nose in her little brother's waving raven hair and set him down. That hair was a perfect match to her own. "Yes, I did lose my job, but don't worry yourself about it; there will be other jobs, _fratello_. There always are." She dipped down and picked up Rosalina's groceries from the floor, making her way to the kitchen.

Theo plodded after her eagerly, his voice trailing off as they walked away.

"But why did you lose this job?" he asked inquisitively.

Jada smirked. "Because men are disgusting pigs. _You_ aren't going to be a disgusting pig when you grow up, are you, _mio_ _amore_…?"

Theo sniffed at her. "No."

"No, of course you aren't, _amore_," Jada fussed, drawing him close with her free hand. "Because you are a good boy. And good boys respect women."

Giuseppe let himself chuckle as the two disappeared out of earshot. It was good to know Jada was teaching Theo some good manners, at least. He watched, with bated breath, as his wife strode across the room took a seat in the armchair that he had been sitting in only minutes before – her tiny frame taken up by the plush leather size of it. Although he could tell she was about to vent her anger, although the lines of her shoulders and neck were unbearably rigid, his heart welled with joy to see her. To see his Rosalina sitting there.

"You took Jada's arrival more calmly than I expected," he said, lowering his voice.

She coughed, delicately. "Why would I be surprised?" came his wife's dull response. "Jada has been fired from or has left every single one of her employments in this past year. She has gone through eleven jobs in the last ten months."

Giuseppe turned to face her, rather sharply. "My love, you cannot blame Jada for that. It is not her fault that she is a beautiful woman. You know she only leaves because –"

"Because she must, yes I know. I know the men who pander after her."

"And you know that she is only trying to protect her honor as a woman –"

"Honor? Honor is only what others perceive it to be." At that Rosalina rose from the chair and spun to stare into her husband's eyes. She had a pretty, heart-shaped face with a delicate chin, and the intensity of her expression was at odds with her soft features. "Jada is starting to gain a reputation, in the Circle as well as elsewhere, for causing trouble, Giuseppe. Wherever she goes, problems ensue… We cannot afford to keep housing her like this, and despite what Jada says, I do not know how many more kind souls will offer her a job – even as a favor to us."

"Of course they will, Rosalina," he chided. "Jada is talented, and impossibly clever. They cannot deny she is well suited for the position of tutoring. And even apart from her schooling she is charming, as well as eloquent. Obviously there will be someone else to hire her –"

"And what respectable wife would employ a woman who has a reputation for stealing husbands?" Rosalina hissed. "Think with your _head_, Giuseppe!" With hands clasped, she paced the small living-room, her eyes darting. "I know you love Jada. As you would have loved our own children, if we'd had any… But please, _mio_ _amore_. Think of the irrationality of this situation. We are down to the last of our finances, and Jada is just turned nineteen – already a year into adulthood. She must find another way of living."

Inside him, something winced, and he could not tell if it was his aging body paining him, or something else. "What else do you expect her to do?" he countered, keeping his voice at a desperate whisper. "Beg on the streets?"

"She could _marry_," Rosalina snapped, "the way all other girls marry at eighteen or nineteen. She could find a rich man. Have a luxurious home, all her own – she could have children –"

"Rich men are men with good family names and good pedigrees, Rosalina," he murmured, glaring thoughtfully into the fireplace. "And men with prestigious family ties will not marry a woman without an impressive family name – like Jada does –"

"If you dressed her up properly, and Jada would pass for an _empress_," his wife declared. "And the right man would find a way to overlook her poor beginnings. The only _real_ thing stopping Jada from marrying is her iron pride and the fact that she still loves that damnable, Demon-loving –"

Her breath caught in her throat – and Giuseppe was somehow reminded of how vampires could not physically speak the holy name of God. So it was with Rosalina and Argyle Silverspear: His name went unmentioned in their house, both for Rosalina's and, he suspected, Jada's sake. She continued on as if she had never thought of him.

"I will allow her one more chance –" Rosalina growled, then. "If her next employment is not successful, then we will have to ask her to leave this house and support herself."

"No!" Giuseppe got his volume under control, through sheer power of will. The muscles in his jaw burned as his teeth clenched. "Are you honestly suggesting that we turn her out onto the streets, Rosalina?"

"Giuseppe," she replied sadly. Slowly, she walked over and put her hand on his steely, cold shoulder. "My love, we do not really have a choice. You have looked at our finances yourself. Something must change, or we will not even be able to take care of little Theo."

With as much dignity as he could muster, Giuseppe limped to the doorway to outside. Hot afternoon air pulsed like a heartbeat. "Do not tell Jada any of this," he said stonily.

His eyes were focused on the door, but he almost swore he could see Rosalina in his mind's eye, chewing on her bottom lip anxiously. "Where are you going?" she finally asked.

Fumbling a little, he managed to open the door. Some part of him withered, knowing it would upset her to leave in such a way, but it was necessity. "For a walk," he replied, shutting the door behind him.

* * *

Jada glanced to the kitchen floor at her feet, taking in the cracked tile through the lens of her fear. They may have used low voices when they spoke, but Jada had heard enough. Her Aunt and Uncle were in financial distress. She needed to work. She needed to find a way to make it on her own.

She peeked at Theo, sitting on a simple wooden stool by the kitchen's stone counter, organizing groceries into the cupboards around him. His dark, curling hair fell over his forehead charmingly – he needed a haircut, really, if Jada was to be honest with herself – but there was no money for it. Whatever she had been paying her guardians for rent, it apparently hadn't been nearly enough for the upkeep of themselves or for Theo.

Theo.

Her chest burned to think of him. Of his innocent eyes that were exactly like their mother's.

Of course she would sacrifice almost anything to keep him safe, but marriage? Would she really give herself to some spoiled, privileged brat, to a man she potentially did not love, to support him?

Shaking her head, Jada detached herself from the wall, strode over to her little brother, and ruffled his hair. It curled softly around her fingers, the way her father's had before he'd died.

No, she told herself. There were other jobs. There had to be.

Marriage was not an option.

But more than ever, she knew that her next employment had to be successful – whatever the cost.

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**What did you think? Personally, little Theo is super cute... so just a little side note there...**

**I'm sure you can see where the plot is going, but yes, it is exciting to be writing nonetheless... P.S. For those of you who are interested in how Jada and Argyle met, you will get to see a bit of that in next chapter...**

**Like always, review with comments and questions! See you next time!**

**Love, Fishie.**


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